Ride Along
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: In which Stephanie tries to prove to Paul what a great driver she is and Paul mostly just soaks up the uninterrupted ten hours they have together the only way he knows how; by bugging the heck out of Steph. - One-shot.


"What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, try getting in the driver's seat."

Paul gave Stephanie a heavy frown, though he only continued passed the front of the car and to the trunk, where he was tossing his bag in, along side hers already resting back there.

"Sorry, princess," he told her after he'd slammed the trunk closed. She was already sitting in the car, but hadn't shut the door yet and wasn't able to before he came to stand in between it and the car. "I drive."

"It's my car."

"I'm the man."

"That has absolutely nothing-"

"I," he said, reaching in then to gently pull her from the car before she could get her seat belt buckled, "drive. That's just the way this is going to go down. Or else "

"Or else what?"

"Or else you drove all the way out here to get me for nothing."

At the moment, they were outside Paul's apartment building. The original plan for him that week was to get down to where the show was being held by going taking his own car. He'd gone home after the previous one, as he had a few things to get taken care of, and was rather peeved when his car gave out on him on Friday morning.

Which only meant that he had to place a call to his, of course, willing girlfriend and ask to be picked up.

Stephanie was thrilled for some reason and agreed immediately.

To Paul, who was pissy over the idea of having to deviate from his plans, couldn't understand this at all. As she explained over the phone though, it would be the first time that they were trapped in a car together.

"You and I drove from-" he tried, but was quickly cut off.

"That was only three hours. That's a blink of the eye. This will be a ten hour trip. I normally would fly before I drove for ten hours."

When they had that phone call, he was in his apartment, laying on the couch, listening to the stereo. But he sat bolt right up at her words. "Hey, there's an idea. You just get me a plane ticket and we don't have to worry about gas or snacks or-"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," she said and she was using _that_ tone, which meant they'd be doing whatever it was that she wanted, no complaints, "we're going to spend ten hours in a car together, bonding. It'll be good for us."

Or the worst thing in the world.

But, you know, whatever. It was happening, whether he liked it or not.

He was not, however, going to be driven around by the woman though. He wasn't sure why he felt as if that was emasculating, but he did.

"Then," Steph was saying at the moment as she stared at him from the driver's seat, "I guess I came here for nothing."

"Stephanie-"

"Why does it matter?"

"Well, for one," he said as, slowly, she did moved to get out of the car, "you drove, like, two hours out here just to get me. You're not going to drive another ten straight."

"And you are?"

He shrugged a bit. "I might. But if I feel tired or whatever, you can take over. Alright?"

"Fine," she groaned loudly, letting him win that one, that once. It was enough for her, after all, that they'd be driving together for such a long time. No need to piss him off before the start of that. "But I want to hear the second reason. At least."

"Oh." He patted her on the head as she relinquished the car keys. "Because you're a woman and don't know how to drive."

"Paul-"

"I'm just kidding." He smiled at her as she headed back towards the apartment then, for some reason. "I just think that you don't know how to drive."

"I do too," she grumbled over her shoulder, though she quickly disappeared into the building once more. When she came back out, it was with a pillow and a blanket. Paul had rolled down the window and called out to make sure she'd locked the door.

"What?" he asked as she finally made it into the car with him, settling in with her pillow and blanket. "You planning on sleeping? We could have flown if-"

"I just," she complained as she buckled in, "want to be comfortable. If I can't drive."

"I said that you can." He hadn't shifted the car into gear yet as he messed around with the CD player instead. "Just not now. We'll switch out."

"Oh sure."

"We will." Though he didn't spend a lot of time in the woman's car, he had enough to stow a few of his own CDs in there and popped one of them in then, immediately moving to crank the volume. When Steph just as swiftly moved to turn it back down, he only smiled at her. "Promise."

"When?" she asked to which he only shrugged a bit, moving to pull out finally.

"I dunno. Around hour...nine and a half?"

"Paul-"

"I'll be tired eventually, babe," he said with a smile at her. "You can drive then. Now where's your map, huh? That can be your job. You can play navigator."

He got such heavy stink eye for that he thought he was about to have to walk to the next venue. All ten hours of it.

Still, Stephanie retrieved the map from the glove box, saying simply, "I already marked the route and everything. You can trust me."

After that evil eye she was throwing down, he wasn't so sure.

They had a comfortable thirty minutes though, after gassing up, in which Steph let him listen to the music and they spoke as little as possible. He knew this wouldn't last, of course, as he knew his girlfriend well enough to know that, considering it had been a whole _eighteen hours_ since they last spoke (if that), she had to have some amount of drama stored away that she just had to get off her chest.

Which she did. Just the usual McMahon garb. Vince was pissy at her again, about something, and Shane was pissy at him, about something, and her mother was just her mother because she didn't have that McMahon blood running through her that made them all crazy.

Paul only grunted along in all the right places because, even though it had only been a few months into their relationship, he knew how to deal with the woman.

"And you won't believe," Stephanie was droning on at one point as Paul tried very hard not to just completely tune her out, "how back into us not being together he is all of a sudden."

"Shane? Or-"

"Vince, Paul." Then she frowned. "Dad, I mean. He's being so annoying about it too."

Sparing her a glance before looking back at the road, he said, "I thought he was over that. They invited us to a dinner. I went to the damn dinner. I wore something other than jeans. For him. For them. Your parents."

"I know."

"If that didn't smooth things over-"

"It's not going to be something he just turns off again. He's gonna go in and out of being upset, more than likely."

"What even set him off this time? Steph?" Then he frowned. "You didn't tell him about-"

"He asked what I was doing today and-"

"And you told him that you'd be going out of your way to pick me up and then driving to-"

"He asked."

"Stephanie-"

"I thought he was fine with us again. Remember your little spiel about the dinner you just went through?"

"Rubbing it in his face though, Steph?"

"He rubs it in his own face. He's the one that's still so behind us working together."

"He ain't the only one, now. Don't push everything off on the man."

That got a bit of a giggle out of the woman as she glanced over at him. "You like being married to me, Paul?"

"Hunter does." He didn't spare her a glance as he changed lanes. "Paul thinks you're tricky."

"Tricky?"

"Tricky."

"In what way?"

"In every way." He smiled to himself. "But Hunter likes tricky women."

"I like when you talk about yourself in the third person."

"I ain't. Hunter is someone that's completely separate from me."

"No fair." Stephanie shifted in her seat a bit. "You get to be two people, but I'm just me."

"That's not true." That time, she did get a glance. A quick one, but a glance. "There's you, Steph, who's sweet and innocent and caring and kind and likes it when I fuck her raw-"

"Paul, you're so-"

"And then there's the Steph that Hunter loves, that's down for anything and conniving and would totally have been turned on, just from me saying I want to fuck her raw-"

"But Paul said that. Not Hunter."

"I don't think that Steph cares."

"H-Hey-"

"Dirty whore."

"You're about to get it."

He grinned then, facing forwards, before saying, "Hunter's Steph would have offered to give him head by now."

"In the car?"

"Mmmhmm."

"You know that my character does more than just sleep with Hunter, right?"

"No." He played off sounded dumbfounded well. "What are you talking about?"

"Paul-"

"You're important, Steph. Or your character is. Whatever." He laughed then. "I'm just jokin', is all. Sort of. I mean, I do see you differently, you know, from the way you are when we're acting. Playing parts. Same name or not. Just like I'm different. Aren't I?"

There was no thought behind it. Just a short nod before, "Completely."

Letting out a short breath, he said softly, "Vince is an old dog, Steph. Doesn't know when to quit. But he needs me. And he loves you. A lot. Which is weird. To think of him as loving anything. Other than himself. And money. But it's true." He didn't have to glance over at her to know she was trying to fight a smile, just from those words alone. "But I care about you too. And he's gonna get that. It's not...a game, for me and you. We mean something to each other. He doesn't realize it yet, but he will."

Steph was blushing then, but only tried to bite it back before saying, "Take the next exit up here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said through his own smile. It wasn't often that he shared with her just how deeply he felt, but when he did, he liked to lay it on rather thick. "Princess."

Paul had to let Stephanie listen to some of her own music eventually and was forced to suffer in silence. He did that a lot, actually, with her.

But when he considered all the concerts she pretended to want to spend her free time at as well as the horribly graphic horror flicks he took her to only for her to hide her head in his shoulder the entire time, he really couldn't gripe.

Much.

Paul, that time, was the one to find conversation. He probably bored Stephanie as much as she had him for the most part, he was sure, as he went on and on about some training he'd begun to undertake. Which, fine, Steph liked working out, but he knew he was droning on a bit, probably like her father, and that wasn't fun.

Eventually, however, he screwed up and mentioned his father and Steph pounced on that immediately, getting him to shift the conversation over to his family. She liked those sorts of things. He figured it was a woman thing, asking about stuff like that. Stephanie had met his parents before, more than once, but it was still rather...awkward, maybe. Better than his relationship with hers, but that really wasn't saying much.

Paul knew that Stephanie wanted to be as close to them as soon as possible. It was just how she was. She didn't like for people to dislike her or feel indifferent towards her. She wanted everyone to love her. And not in the normal human way. In an overly attention deprived way.

Steph was...loving. And caring. She just needed a lot of love and care and attention back. Or else she'd start to feel unloved or unwelcome or…just other stupid women shit. He typically didn't go for women who were so needy and clingy, but with Steph it felt so...different.

He liked that she wanted to be around him constantly. That her favorite date was when they'd just sit around in a hotel room, eating junk (yes, he was that into her, he'd actually eat those empty calories she loved so much), and goofing on one another. Just...hanging out. He liked the way that no matter what mood he was in when they'd meet up, he'd always leave feeling, perhaps not happy, but always that at least there was someone that understood him and his plight. That got what he was saying. That was in his corner.

Paul loved Stephanie.

He wouldn't tell her that. Not for a few more months. It was far too early, he felt, in their relationship and she hadn't said it to him yet, so he definitely couldn't. No way. Though, honestly, she'd had near falls with it many times before, late at night when they were on the phone and about to hang up or when they were finishing up working out and she was so thrilled, seeing him accomplish something new, and wanted to just tell him how proud she was and in love she was and just…

It would slip out though, on his part, in the coming months, when he'd tear a quad and need a shoulder to cry on. Steph was good at that. She'd be extra good that night, in that hotel room that would become his prison for nine months as he rehabbed and healed, and he was upset because it was an upsetting time and life was shit and she was just...not shit. She was perfect. And took care of him. Called up on him. Checked in on him. Made sure he had whatever he needed.

Like his family, fine, but different. Steph was different. She'd come and hold his head in her lap and listen to him bitch and moan and he couldn't do that with anyone else. He couldn't tell his mother or sister that he hated his life and that he felt like he was the biggest fuck up ever to tear a quad in such an idiotic way. There was no way that he'd ever tell his father about how sometimes he just wanted to give up and he wanted to just run away and fuck it all. Fuck it all.

But he could tell Steph that. She listened well. Stroked his head just right. Assured him when he needed assurance. Rebuked him when he needed rebuking. Told him how strong he was when that was what he wanted. Agreed with him about how hard it was going to be to come back.

"You can do it though, Paul." And she'd smooth down his unruly hair, pressing kisses to his forehead. "If anyone can, you can. I believe in you. Does that help anything?"

It helped so much. So very much that he'd tell her, one of those days, about how much she'd meant to him and was continuing to mean to him and that he loved her. There was no two ways about it.

He kept silent that day though. Instead, he told her everything she asked about his mother and agreed that, yes, he should call them more. He knew, of course, she was only saying that in no doubt hopes he'd mention her a lot, but everyone had double motives.

McMahons especially.

"I love the way you talk about your dad," she told him with a giggle at one point. "You really respect him."

"I mean, he's no Vince McMahon, but he does pretty damn well for himself."

"Vince does exceedingly well for himself."

"You know what's weird?"

"Hmmm?"

"For all the love you have for hearing about me and my father," he said with a slight grin, "hearing about you and yours is wearing a bit thin."

Steph was snuggled up under her blanket then, as Paul had the A/C cranked (the blasts of cold air kept him alert, he claimed), but removed an arm from under it so that she could change the radio station. While doing so, she only said, "It's been, like, four hours now, Paul. You wanna switch? Or-"

"I'm fine."

"I'm a very accomplished driver, you know."

"I'm sure you- Wait, what does that even mean?"

Humming, Stephanie said, "You could find out, if we traded at the next gas station."

"Sorry, princess, but I think the biggest thing your father has me charged with at the moment is getting you from Point A to Point B without you, like, dying-"

"I'm a great driver!"

"Sure," he said with a slight grin.

"And it's not even your car," Stephanie pointed out. "So what do you care?"

"You're my girlfriend. I want to keep your car in working order. Since, you know, mine's all busted up. Not to mention keep you in working order-"

"I haven't had a wreck or even a speeding ticket in, like, two years."

"Well, I've never had a wreck, so-"

"None of mine were even that serious, so-"

"As in plural?"

"W-Well-"

"Steph, you need me. Admit it." He gave her a sideways glance. "I mean, fine, I need you for things. You take very good care of me. Help me keep my apartment clean and remind me about my bills, but me? I'm gonna have to be your practical chauffeur over here."

"That's what I help you with? Cleaning and bill paying?" She made that scrunched up face at him that he found so attractive. "And I get around just fine, thanks."

"All I'm saying is that if your dad does can my ass-"

"He's not going to fire you so stop-"

"-I wanna become your personal chauffeur. Huh? Me and you, paling around the states-"

"No thanks."

"You sure?"

"Very."

"I mean, are you not enjoying this?"

"I've enjoyed parts of this, but-"

"And could you imagine hiring me _as_ Triple H? Huh? Triple H as your personal chauffeur?" He was grinning real big, in that way that he did when he was hamming it up for her. "I could make tons of money off that! From other people than you. In fact, babe, sorry, but I'm gonna have to turn down your offer."

"I never made one."

"I mean, I'm getting at that sweet McMahon money just from plowin' ya weekly-"

"Okay, for one, I'm tired of the sex jokes; knock it off. For two, weekly?"

"Well, it ain't daily. The next time frame I could use was weekly."

"And don't say...plow. That's nasty."

"My point," he kept on, "was that I could make butt loads off this. Being Triple H and-"

"Vince owns Triple H." Steph turned the radio back up then.

"No one owns me."

"You're right," she agreed. "No one owns you. But Triple H belongs to WWF. Paul Levesque, who portrayed Hunter Hearst Helmsley on television, could give people rides. But you couldn't advertise it as Triple H giving people rides."

"That's bullshit."

"That's business."

He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel in annoyance. "There Vince goes again. I get a whole thing planned out for myself and he ruins it."

"What else has he ruined for you? My father's made you."

"Oh lord."

"Where would you be? Where would you all be? Without Vince McMahon? Nowhere! He built every single one of you up from-"

"Have you been eavesdropping on those private conversations he wants to have with me all the time now that I'm sleepin' with you?"

"No." She smiled widely over at him. "But I can pretty much guess how they go. How they all go, when he's mad at someone."

"He ever get mad at you? Princess?"

He got the incredulous look that time. "Constantly. Especially now that I'm tainting his business."

"You're not tainting the business." Paul laughed, just a bit. "You're only making the whole thing even more real."

"Mmmm. Should I be drinking this soda then?" She nodded at the can that sat in the cup holder between them, next to his bottle of water. "Or have you spiked it?"

"That was never proven."

"Oh, Hunter."

"And you've forgiven him for it-"

"You. You're Hunter right now. Aren't you, Mr. Chauffeur?"

Paul's eyes had that glint in them as he said, "You like calling me Hunter, Steph?"

"I like it a lot. Hunter. I like that name."

"How much?"

"A whole bunch. But now you've ruined it."

"Ruined it from what?"

"I dunno." Steph even shrugged a bit. "I could see naming a baby Hunter. Or I could have. Before you ruined it."

"I didn't name myself, babe."

"Mmmm."

"And as someone who portrays a guy named Hunter and gets called that constantly in the streets-"

"The people do love you," she grumbled slightly. "Especially the women."

"-I can tell you that it's kind of a weird name. A very weird one. Odd. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter. It sounds a lot like hunger. Which makes me hungry."

Stephanie blinked. Then she sighed. "You're really something, Paul."

"Hunter. You said you'd call me Hunter." He snickered. "You really did like that name then? For a kid?"

"I just think it's a cute name."

"It'd work in the storyline, anyways. That Triple H would be so self-absorbed that he'd named his kid after himself. Something even Vince managed not to do."

"Hunter Junior."

"Mmmhmm."

"Something tells me," she said with a glance, "that my dad's already trying to figure a way out of Hunter and Steph's relationship. And he definitely won't be adding a baby to the mix. I think even if I got pregnant, he'd figure a way around it being Hunter's."

An awkward beat passed then before Paul said, "Well, let's just try to never get you pregnant, huh? And save that problem."

Blushing, Steph said, "I didn't mean… It was just a joke."

"I know."

"So-"

"And I couldn't name a baby Hunter in real life either," he said, giving her a rather uneasy grin. "I mean, that'd be completely weird, right? Since my character is named that? It'd be… I dunno. So I guess Triple H ruined the name for both of us."

"Do you even...want kids?"

And gah! She hated that she asked that and he hated that she asked that and how did they get on that subject again? How?

"I don't… Steph… Yeah, I guess. Eventually. That's just what people do, isn't it? Eventually?"

"You don't think about it though?"

"I just… Did you like it?" he asked her then. "Growing up with a father who was constantly on the road? Doing shows? Because I don't… Unless I knew that I could for sure balance what I love, wrestling, with a baby then… My parent were always there for me. At every single event I had at school or just when I was home, doing nothing, they were there to find something for me to do. I'd have to know that I was going to be able to give my kid that before I ever had one."

Stephanie considered this in silence and he kind of was hoping the subject was going to be dropped, but eventually she began speaking once more.

"My father wasn't always there," she agreed softly, "but when we were together, it just made it mean more. And I never once got upset if he couldn't be at something. Because he was working. Working hard. You can't imagine all the stories I have, because of my father, that no one else ever could. The men I've met and became friends with, when I was a kid."

He'd heard her stories before, about Andre the Giant and such and only nodded. "I know. It's definitely...different, I'm sure."

"Very."

Once more, they fell into complete silence. When the radio station went to a commercial break, she moved to put in a CD once more, making sure that it was one of his. That got a grin from Paul as well as a slight laugh.

"You trying to please me, Steph?"

"Anything for you, Hunter."

Shifting one hand away from the steering wheel and onto her thigh instead, Paul said, "Your car's kinda tiny for me, you know, babe. You should have gotten a better car. For your husband."

"Well, _Hunter_ , you know, most husbands help their wives buy a car."

"Most wives come to their husbands with questions before they buy the car."

"I think we're both forgetting that we weren't married when I bought this car."

He paused. "You mean you McMahons don't get a new car for each new season?"

"No, Paul, we don't. That's how you _lose_ money. Not how you make it."

"Huh."

"You know, maybe it'll be a good thing for me and Hunter to be done with one another. And soon." Steph took to staring out her window, rather than looking at him. "He's not made to have money."

"That's 'cause Hunter's gonna be new money, baby. He's gotta learn."

"Mmmhmm."

He squeezed her thigh lightly. "You teach him so much."

"He's not very good at listening though."

"Well, you can be a bit long winded."

Shoving his hand off then, she said, "Take the loop up here, babe."

"Of course, babe."

"You're really good at driving, babe."

"Thanks, babe."

"But I'd be better." She turned her head to stare at him then. "Babe."

"That has yet to be seen." He gave her a smirk. "Babe."

"Because someone's hogging the-"

"Hog is a strong word."

"In what way? It fits a pigheaded guy like you pretty perfectly, I think."

"You talkin' to Hunter, babe? Or Paul?"

"Both, babe."

"Mmmm. Well, nether likes that sorta assessment of them, by the way."

"I bet they don't."

"I'd never call you a hog."

"Better not."

"Because I respect you."

"Uh-huh."

"So much. My respectable woman."

"I'm your woman?"

"Do you not wanna be?" Paul laughed. "If I'm your man?"

"I guess I'm yours if you're mine."

"I'm yours." He reached for the volume dial, turning it up as loud as it would go, just so she would turn it down again, because that's what they did. "Believe me."

The next time they stopped off for gas and snacks, as well as bathroom breaks, Steph beat Paul back to the car, claiming the driver's seat and, with a sigh, he relinquished it to her.

"Just," he grumbled, "until the next stop."

Steph had arrived at his place at noon and a number of hours had passed since they left, the bright sky giving way to the setting sun. Paul liked that time of night, when the dusk was just settling in and all the businesses on the side of the highway had on their illuminated neon signs. It made him feel like a little kid, seeings the sights and sounds.

And it helped distract him from his girlfriend's erratic driving.

"Steph, they cannot hear you from inside the car," he complained more than once as she yelled at the 'assholes' that had the misfortune of being on the road at the same time as her. "But I can. And it's annoy-"

"I just wish that others would learn how the hell to drive!"

"Yeah," he dryly replied, staring out the window and away from her, "so do I."

They stopped again sooner than expected, but Paul feigned needing to use the bathroom again and that worked well enough. He made sure that they traded off on who was driving though. That was the main thing.

Stephanie seemed complete then though, if not accomplished, as if she'd shown him just how great women were at driving. And yes, there were women that were good at driving. He knew plenty.

He just didn't know a Stephanie McMahon who was.

Or a McMahon in general, probably.

She slept for a bit then and he let her, because she'd driven three hours just to get to him and then the ones in the car with him at the moment, so she deserved some sleep. He kept his music down low as not to disturb her and mostly thought about nothing for awhile. He usually felt hyped up around Stephanie, but they had low moments too. Normally late at night, when they were just laying around in bed or on the couch, listening to TV or the radio, sometimes even silence, not talking, just being.

For all the enjoyment he got out of messing around with Steph, he thoroughly relished in just being with her too.

"When we get there, it's gonna be late," he told her when she woke up. "On a Sunday. So we gotta get up early Monday and do all that shit that goes into doing our usual shit that we do."

"You speak of it with such loving care," she yawned.

Nodding, Paul said, "It is the love of my life. WWF. Or wrestling, I guess, in general."

Stephanie stretched a bit as she shifted around in her chair before saying, "When we get to the hotel, I think I'm going straight to bed."

"No shower? Working out? Eating?"

"Just bed. Falling right into it and not getting up until the morning."

"Am I allowed in this bed?"

"You can be my bed," she offered. "I like snuggling into your chest."

"You always say it's too hard."

"It's unforgiving," she agreed. "And cold. Taut."

"That's pure muscle for you, princess."

"But I like it. And I like the way you snuggle me."

"I don't snuggle."

"Oh, Paul."

"I don't." He held his head up higher. "I just allow you to do as you wish with my body and it responds however it wishes."

"That sounds...really weird, but sweet. You're really sweet, Paul."

"Yeah, well."

Settling into her seat, Steph reached over to mess with the radio as well as glance at the dashboard clock before saying, "We've been trapped in this car together for hours and haven't had a single fight."

"So? We spend hours together all the time."

"But not so closely. And we can leave at any time, usually. We're not...stuck. This was a big step."

Paul blinked. Then asked softly, "Really now?"

"Well, yeah. It means that we can go places together. Really go places. And not be at one another's throats."

"Now, I do enjoy your throat," he admitted. "Suckling on it, biting it, sometimes choking it-"

"Paul-"

"Just saying. Don't ever accuse me of not being into that. At any time."

"It's nice, is all. Me ad you getting to spend some time completely alone." Giving him a stare, she asked, "Don't you think?"

"Of course." That time when he reached over, it was to pat her on the head. "We're friends too, Steph. First. We were friends first. Of course we can spend time together. I enjoy it."

"Yeah." Stephanie was practically beaming, it seemed like, as she reached down towards the floorboard where she had a bag of chips. "I enjoy it t-"

"Those again?"

"What?" she complained as she dug right into the bag once more. "I have to finish them, you know."

"Well, let me have some too, if you're going to be so noisy about eating them-"

"You could just admit you want a few, you know."

No, he couldn't. Because that would be admitting defeat to him.

They were both dead tired, it felt like, when they finally got there. Which felt kind of silly, considering they'd done nothing but drive the entire day, but it made no difference. After they checked in, Steph held to her word and fell face first into the bed.

Paul laughed too, watching her, before saying, "Not even gonna undress, babe?"

"I told you, babe," came her muffled voice as she pressed her face into a pillow, "that I was going straight to bed. No interruptions."

"Yeah, well," he said as he dropped their bags before heading to the bathroom, as he himself needed a shower before he'd even think about falling asleep, "just remember, we got shit in the morning, so rest up now."

"Plan on it."

"And maybe...maybe we can drive to the next venue together? Huh? From now on?"

"Mmmm." Steph did turn her head then, to the side, so that he could hear her loud and clear as she said, "As long as I get to drive."

Grinning to himself, Paul shut the door behind him before saying, "Whatever you want, babe."


End file.
